


Sippin' On Moonlight, Drinking Champagne

by fourdrunksluts



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Misunderstandings, Resolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 05:37:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18004838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourdrunksluts/pseuds/fourdrunksluts
Summary: There have been many times that he’s considered approaching Michael about his feelings and putting everything on the line. He’s no stranger to wearing his heart on his sleeve. Every time though, he’s stopped by a pop of the hip, a flick of the fringe, or those goddamn clear glasses, worn only to make Calum constantly hard.It’s not that Calum doesn’t believe their relationship would be amazing, because itwouldbe. It’s just, for all that they blend together perfectly, Calum isn’t sure that they’d besexuallycompatible. Because while Calum loves to be held down and man-handled, Michael, well…Michael is a twink.-Or the one where Calum moves in with Michael and doesn't know how to take a hint.





	Sippin' On Moonlight, Drinking Champagne

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from _Closer_ by POWERS

Calum is not the type of person who’s content to live on his own. He’s tried it only once, but all four weeks he spent solo were absolutely miserable. He needs to be in the company of others in order to be satisfied with his living situation. There’s something about having another living, breathing person around that makes him so much more comfortable in his environment. 

He was lucky when he found Ashton. They shared a class together in uni, and just around the time Calum was in need of a place to go, Ashton’s roommate moved back home, freeing a room in the flat. It didn’t take much discussion for Calum to move in and for the two of them to start a friendship. 

It’s been a great few years living together. Ashton keeps quiet when Calum leaves his dirty dishes on the counter, and Calum doesn’t say anything about Ashton’s music being too loud. They fit together perfectly. 

Which is why it’s so unfortunate that Ashton had to go and fall in love. 

Calum’s happy for his friend, he really is, but he’s not happy about having to pack up everything he owns in cardboard boxes and move in with somebody else. 

He found Michael, his new flatmate, in an ad online. One of those real estate websites that -

Craigslist. It was Craigslist, alright? Every other site had an application process that was too complicated and time consuming for the schedule Calum’s on. Craigslist was his last resort, and though Michael seemed perfect in his ad, Calum was extremely weary to meet him. 

They were both desperate for a flatmate, and their meeting went as smooth as it possibly could have. Two weeks and a hefty security deposit later, Calum’s moving in. 

Ashton insisted on helping; the very moment Calum mentioned he’d found a place, Ashton was puffing his chest out and acting every bit the big brother role he thinks he’s born to play. It’s moving day now, and Ashton’s sticking to Calum’s side, voicing his disapproval in a never ending soundtrack of “ _ It’s a bad idea _ ”s and “ _ I just want you to be safe _ ”s. 

“Ashton, it’ll be fine.” Calum’s been ignoring Ashton’s protests. The two are carrying Calum’s mattress up the steps, Ashton insisting that it’s best to do the hard work first, and Calum’s focusing more on not dropping the damn thing than listening to Ashton. “I’ll call you every night if you’re going to worry that much.”

“That’s not…” Ashton huffs and his end of the mattress rises as though he’s just shrugged with his entire body. “I just find it worrying that he was on Craigslist, and so completely desperate for a roommate that he rushed you in.”

Calum ignores him for a moment, putting all his attention in fitting the back end of the mattress around the first turn on the staircase. Getting it down the stairs at Ashton’s took far less concentration, but here there’s no room for error lest Calum wants to be crushed under the weight of his bed. 

“His old flatmate left without much warning,” Calum defends, “and his rent was due soon. I would’ve done the same.”

“But he’s a stranger,” Ashton insists, his voice biting. 

“You were a stranger - ”

Ashton’s groan cuts Calum off, and he has to stop himself from laughing at Ashton. “We had a class together.” 

Calum grins, thinking back to just how little they interacted. “We didn’t talk. You asked me for a pencil once a week and occasionally emailed me notes.” They wouldn’t have even moved in together if it wasn’t for Calum eavesdropping on Ashton’s conversation one day. 

“But you at least  _ knew  _ me.” 

“Serial killers can go to uni, too, Ash.” 

Ashton huffs, and Calum refuses to admit just how much fun he’s having at Ashton’s expense. “I’m just saying. You don’t know him. He could be into weird shit.” 

“ _ I’m  _ into weird shit,” Calum returns. It’s probably immature of him, but he loves the way Ashton’s face gets red and blotchy at his outburst. 

“But you’re you,” Ashton argues, “so it fits.” 

“You’re just talking out of your ass at this point.” 

Calum has a secret love for fucking with Ashton. It started when they first moved in together and Ashton accidentally walked in on Calum naked, and since then, just from the shock on Ashton’s face, Calum has done everything he could to mess with him. 

Over the years, it’s gotten more and more difficult to have the same effect. Nowadays Ashton catching Calum naked just earns a sigh, and all of the earlier pranks like flipping all the furniture in Ashton’s room upside down just make him laugh now and ask when Calum found the time. 

So moments like now when he can rile Ashton up, can frustrate him to no end, well it blooms a joy inside of Calum that makes him want to do nothing but persist in his efforts to infuriate his best friend. He swears, it’s all done out of love. 

“No, listen!” Ashton’s beginning to get petulant at the way Calum keeps messing with him. “I have a point. If he comes home and you’re doing that sex yoga - ”

“Hot yoga, Ashton,” Calum finds himself correcting. “It’s hot yoga. There’s no sex.” 

Ashton lowers the mattress and glares at Calum, his mouth set in a firm line and his eyebrows completely unimpressed. “It was sexy.”

“ _ Ashton Irwin _ !” Calum knows he can’t stop grinning, and even when red flushes his friend’s face, he still can’t seem to keep his smile down.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I’m pretty sure it was, Ashton,” Calum laughs, feeling nothing but joy. “You think I’m  _ sexy _ .”

Ashton groans, his end of the mattress shifting, and the thought that he’s getting even more frustrated just makes Calum even giddier. “I meant sexual. Your hot yoga was sexual, and…” Ashton trails off before groaning again. “I don’t even remember what I was saying.”

“You were saying that I’m weird, but it’s sexy, yeah?”

“No, I - 

“It’s okay, I understand.” Calum’s not even pretending this isn’t one of the best holes Ashton’s dug himself. “We all have repressed sexual urges sometime, and if you think - ” Ashton drops his end of the mattress and Calum falters. “ _ Ashton! _ Ashton, what the fuck? Pick it up, pick it up, it’s heavy.” They’re halfway up the stairs, and the mattress is threatening to crush Calum underneath it. “Please, please, please, I can’t take it anymore.”

Ashton sighs and, slow as ever, picks it back up off the ground. Immediately, Calum’s arms are thankful for the relief. “Are you done then?” 

“Yeah, of course.” Ashton’s face disappears behind the white of the bed and they continue up the stairs until they finally make it to Calum’s new front door. “Was it sexy when I begged?” Ashton drops the bed again in response and Calum laughs. He drops his side as well, glad they’re not on the stairs any longer and that he can also let the weight go. 

Calum starts to shuffle through his pockets, searching for the copy of his key Michael gave to him after their meeting last week, but before he can even find it, the door opens to reveal Michael, his new flatmate, holding an apple in his hand and leaning against the doorframe. 

“Good morning.”

Calum smiles, taking his hands out of his jacket and stopping his search. “Hey, Michael.”

“I assume this is my roommate delivery then.”

Ashton steps forward before Calum can say anything. “So you’re the guy from Craigslist?” He’s tense, standing taller and broader than he usually does, yet still shorter than both Calum  _ and _ Michael. It’s clear he’s trying to look intimidating, but Michael merely quirks his eyebrow. 

“That’s what they call me,” he deadpans. “Craigslist Michael. I’m real popular with children.”

Ashton snaps his head towards Calum, eyes wide and mouth taught. It has Calum holding in giggles, but Ashton ignores him and scoffs. “Can we just get this bed inside?”

“You absolutely can,” Michael speaks up through a bite of his apple. “Do you need help?”

Calum shakes his head. “No, I think we’re alright.”

“Thank God,” Michael grins, stepping out of the way and holding the door open. “I would’ve been absolutely no help, to be honest.”

“Then why did you ask?”

Michael narrows his eyes at Ashton, not seeming impressed with his tone. “To be kind, bland stranger. I’m a kind person, and you’re welcome.”

“Thank you, Michael,” Calum cuts in, seeing that a fight is actually a possibility between the two. “We’ll try to be quiet as we’re putting things up.”

He bends down to pick up his end of the mattress, pushing the other end into Ashton’s feet until he exhales through his nose and helps Calum get the mattress onto its side and through the front door. 

Michael stands by the doorway, watching the two of them work until the get the bed to the hallway. “I’m going to work in about an hour and a half, so you’re alright. I’ll be in the kitchen pretending to keep busy until then.” 

Calum and Ashton get to work bringing up the rest of the bed and the boxes and making sure everything labeled in Calum’s handwriting is out of the car and in his new place. Ashton doesn’t stay past that, excusing himself for work, so Calum’s left alone with everything he owns packed up in boxes, ready to be put away. 

He decides to start easy and finds the box marked “kitchen.” It’ll be easier for him to put things where there’s already a place instead of having to reorganize an entire room, he thinks. 

He has trouble finding the cupboard where the mugs are kept, so he searches through all of them, laughing when he opens one cupboard to find an array of cereal with a label marked “ _ Do Not Fucking Touch _ .” 

“That was for Luke.” 

Calum jumps at the unexpected voice resounding through the kitchen. He turns around, catching the sight of Michael in a button up shirt, most likely heading out for work. “Your old flatmate?” he asks.  

Michael nods. “He used to eat this shit cereal, and when he’d run out, he’d just start going through mine. I’d wake up in the morning with my cocoa pops spilled across the counter and dripping with cold water. Eventually, I had to stop it.”

“So I take you fought a lot?”

“All the time,” Michael laughs. “But he’s my best friend, and I love him. At the end of the day it’s just food.”

“If it makes you feel better about him moving out, I can steal your cereal.” Michael's laugh doesn’t fade any at Calum’s offer. “I won’t clean the kitchen either.”

“That’s - ”

“You’ll have a hard time pouting when you’re scrubbing counters.”

“I don’t pout,” Michael argues. “I brood.” 

Calum smiles at the way Michael's frown comes out of nowhere, over exaggerated and dramatic. “Then you can brood over the dishes you’re washing and drying.” 

“I use paper plates, actually.”

It’s sarcastic and playful and they’re both grinning at each other over the counter. Calum knows it’s ridiculous and they probably look silly on the outside, but he can’t help but be giddy that they’re getting along so well. Moving in with a relative stranger has the possibility to be a disaster, but everything is going so well already, and Calum couldn’t be happier about it. 

“I should be heading out.” Michael flicks his head towards the door. 

“I’ll let you go. I’ve got boxes to unpack.”

“I’ll see you later.” Michael slides his coat off the counter and makes his way out of the flat.

“Don’t let the big kids pick on you,” Calum yells, and Michael's laugh echoes as he’s shutting the door. Calum grins to himself before going back to the box in front of him. 

⇟⇟⇟

Calum knows that moving in with Michael was a smart choice. Even in the interview, Calum could see the potential between them. 

Because, here’s the thing - he and Michael are extremely compatible. Michael tells bad, niche jokes, and Calum will laugh at anything. Michael insults Calum, but all it does is have the younger of the two grinning into his hands. When they speak, there’s an underlying current pushing their conversations along and making it seem like they’ll never run out of topics. 

There are small mannerisms Michael possesses that captivate Calum and grab his attention as well - minor ticks that Calum just knows add to their compatibility. Living together is going to be a walk in the park, Calum’s certain, because even in the short time they’ve known each other, they get on better than Calum and Ashton could ever dream of. 

Sure, Calum may have a slight crush on Michael, that much is obvious, but he doesn’t want to ruin his living arrangements, not when he’s close to public transport and in a not-terrible part of town with a decent roommate. He can contain his attraction for the sake of his and Michael's comfort. Calum’s handled painful, all-consuming infatuation before, and despite the fact that nothing can come from it, he knows living with the other man won’t exactly be a hardship. 

The two of them get on like bread and butter and Calum’s certain he can work his way through a minor crush. He’s mastered getting over people who were off limits before. If all else fails and Calum’s stuck living a lifetime of concealed feelings and unrequited pining, at least he’ll have something nice to look at. 

The fact that he wants Michael to fuck him into next week doesn’t hurt either. 

⇟⇟⇟

As is the norm for just moving in somewhere, Calum spends most of his time unpacking. He never seems to realize just how much stuff he owns. Every time he’s inclined to believe he’s completely moved in, there’s a box of clothing or books or kitchen supplies sitting in the corner, taunting him. 

He knows he could leave them sitting there, but if he does that, there’s no telling how long it could take to have them unpacked. Calum’s box of movies didn’t get unloaded in Ashton’s house until about a month before he moved out. He knows how he is, and he knows the boxes need to be taken care of now. 

That’s why, just after an exhausting eight hour shift, instead of relaxing, he has plans to finish unpacking the last of his clothing. It won’t make him completely settled in, but it’s progress, and it’s a goal he’s going to meet no matter what. 

Any temptation he may have had to skip unpacking and kick his feet up while watching the telly disappears as soon as he walks in to see Michael video chatting with somebody. Not wanting to interrupt, Calum waves as he walks through the living room and into his bedroom. Before he has time to do anything else, he grabs the closest box he can and sits on the ground ready to sort through the next few. 

About halfway through his shirts, there’s a knock on the door and Michael's head pokes through. “Hey,” he smiles stepping into the room when he sees that Calum’s decent. “I just wanted - Wow, that’s a lot of leather.” 

Calum nods, looking down at the various patterns lying in front of him. “It is.”

“A  _ lot _ of leather.”

“I like leather.” Calum can feel his forehead creasing down. He looks Michael over consideringly, not sure if he’s trying to make fun or just commenting. 

“I can see that.”

Calum watches Michael's wide eyes take in the mess of clothing he has scattered around. There clearly isn’t any negativity behind his words, but Michael's not saying anything, and Calum still has to finish this box of clothing. “Did you come here just to criticize my fashion or are you going to insult my mom too?”

“What?” Michael's gaze snaps to Calum. “No, I wasn’t insulting - ” As soon as he sees Calum grinning through Michael's backtracking, the alertness fades away. “You’re an asshole.” Calum laughs and turns his attention back to hanging his shirts. “I actually came in here to apologize.”

“For insulting my - ”

“I wasn’t insulting you,” Michael insists, groaning with his words. Calum laughs quietly at his exasperation. “No, I’m apologizing for basically hoarding the living room and forcing you to hide out in here.” 

Thinking back, Calum doesn’t remembering Michael acknowledging him, let alone kicking him out of the room. “You didn’t force me in here.”

Michael shrugs. His focus turns to the open box of records resting next to the door. “Well staying in there while I’m talking to my family is bound to be uncomfortable.” 

“I was coming in here to unpack anyway,” Calum explains. “You really have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I still am.” Michael bends down and looks at the records on the floor, partly stacked, partly scattered. “I never want you to feel like this isn’t your home… too.”

Calum stops his work, too busy watching Michael. His words sounded as though he wasn’t paying attention to them, as though he wouldn’t remember what he’d just said if asked. It’s interesting, that the music caught his focus, and Calum wants to know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. 

He doesn’t find out, as it is. Michael doesn’t look past the first few records before standing back up and looking back at Calum expectantly. Calum isn’t disappointed. 

He’s not. 

Racking his brain, he remembers Michael saying something about feeling at home, but he was more than distracted by his flatmate’s interest in the music. “Well with your cereal fence and taking over public areas how could I  _ not _ feel welcome?” 

Michael laughs, a light, sweet sound that’s followed by him playfully crossing his arms in front of him. “If you were to talk like this in the interview, I never would’ve let you move in.”

“The interview was you eating chips out of a cup and talking about your old flatmate getting a job transfer,” Calum recalls. 

“I was sad and eating my feelings.” Calum bites his lip to contain his grin at Michael's insulted tone. “I can’t believe you’d attack me in my moment of distress, Calum.” 

Calum watches Michael closely, waiting for him to laugh at his own joke, but the moment never comes - he stays as straight-faced as ever, forcing Calum to shrug and wonder if he’ll ever know what Michael is thinking. 

“Well I should you leave to it,” Michael sighs. “I’d help but I really don’t want to.”

Calum shakes his head, a fond smile taking over his face as he remembers Michael saying something similar on move-in day. “Is this the support I should get used to?”

“If you want support, I’ll gently cheer you on as I’m watching Game of Thrones in the living room.”

And that gathers Calum’s attention. He sits up straighter, letting a hanger fall loosely from his fingers. “The new episode? From last night?” 

“Of course,” Michael scoffs. “That means my cheering might be lacking, but I’ll make it up to you sometime.”

“You can’t watch that without me.” Calum’s horrified to realize that he didn’t tell Michael about his obsession with that show during their interview. It was the first thing he ever told Ashton. 

“I can’t?”

“I’ve seen every episode of every season, and I cannot miss this one. I’m joining you.”

Michael pointedly looks at the pile of shirts Calum has in front of them, half of them on hangers and the other half haphazardly folded. “Then you’d better hurry up.”

Calum nods eagerly. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll be there.”

Michael hums, slowly backing up and through the doorway. “I’m pressing play the very moment I make it to the living room.” He walks out of the room and down the hallway, and Calum hands are shaking with how fast he’s trying to gather all of his shirts into something that resembles an organized pile. “I just need - ”

“ _ Pressing play… _ ” 

Calum groans and drops the clothes in his hand. He rushes after Michael as quickly as his numb legs will let him. And if his shirts don’t get put away until next week, that’s alright. 

⇟⇟⇟

Something Calum loves about living with Michael are their grocery days. 

The reason being, that Calum’s consistently having to stop himself from picking up Michael's lithe frame and setting him into the shopping trolley.

Because for all that Michael's a twenty-three year old man, he acts every bit a child when confronted with kinder eggs. They don’t exactly have the budget to be supporting Michael's snacking habit, so instead taking of turns with shopping, which was his and Ashton’s arrangement, they have to get together. If not, Michael will come home with a trolley full of mini cheddars. 

Michael insists that he’s overreacting, but when Michael throws more snack food into the trolley and Calum has to sigh for the seventh time, he assumes the proper amount of concern is being given. 

“We can’t get anything like this.” Calum’s not sure what else he can say to keep Michael from throwing more unnecessary food in. 

“It’s just  _ one  _ more pack of biscuits,” Michael insists, but Calum’s not inclined to believe him. Especially when he almost cried over the box of jaffa cakes Calum placed back on the shelf. 

“There’ve been ten different ‘just one’ packs. If you keep this up we won’t have enough for vegetables.”

Michael's eyes narrow and Calum repeats the gesture. It’s their first fight as roommates - a mild one, sure - and Calum can’t back down else Michael get the idea that he can step all over him. “All the more reason to do it.”

“We have to get real food,” Calum explains, reaching down for the biscuits and putting them back on the shelf. “Nourishment. We can’t live off of sweets.”

“Maybe  _ you  _ can’t, but I can. Have been for years.” 

Michael's glaring, moments away from snarling in his discontent. Calum hates seeing Michael like that, hates seeing the usual smile completely wiped away, but for the sake of making rent this month, Calum won’t back down. 

The snack war goes on for a while. It soon starts to feel like Michael's throwing in whatever he can just to piss Calum off. And it’s working. It gets to the point that he actually  _ tries _ to put Michael in the trolley for the rest of the trip.

Cocoa Pops go into the cart, Michael glaring at Calum, daring him to take it out, and Calum’s inclined to believe he’ll be out on the street if he messes with the box. He puts his hands up in surrender, figuring that letting cereal through will make Michael see he’s not the bad guy, and hopefully stop the battle. 

It doesn’t. 

Almost immediately after Calum’s surrender, a cocky grin paints itself on Michael's face and he’s throwing more stuff in. Calum’s not certain when he moved in with a seven year old, but he’s almost ready to move out. 

It’s long after the crisps and biscuits when Michael throws a few chocolate bars in and it takes everything Calum has in him not to stomp on the ground. “ _ Michael _ .” 

Michael rolls his eyes in return, making a show of it. “Calum, please. Just let me have those.” Calum frowns, but doesn’t immediately remove the chocolate. “I promise not to throw anything else in, if you’ll just let me have this one thing… multiple things.”

Calum doesn’t answer right away. He watches Michael, looks him in eyes, wants to be sure that this isn’t another tactic like the tea. “If anything else so much as touches the trolley - ”

“It won’t,” Michael promises. His eyes are wide and for the first time since they stepped foot in the store, he looks truly innocent. Calum’s almost forced to believe him.

“Fine.” 

The rest of the trip runs well, and Michael makes true on his promise. Nothing that isn’t on their list goes in the trolley, and neither of them makes a fuss for the rest of the trip. It’s grown-up and mature, and Calum should be happy…  

But he just can’t seem to shake something from his mind. 

⇟⇟⇟

For all that they’re very compatible, they may be  _ too  _ similar. 

Calum loves their banter, and lives for the moments he can make Michael laugh; sometimes it’s the best part of his day. There’s no denying that their personalities blend perfectly, but there’s one thing that Calum can’t stop wondering about, something that plagues his thoughts. 

There have been many times that he’s considered approaching Michael about his feelings and putting everything on the line. He’s no stranger to wearing his heart on his sleeve. Every time though, he’s stopped by a pop of the hip, a flick of the fringe, or those goddamn clear glasses, worn only to make Calum constantly hard. 

It’s not that Calum doesn’t believe their relationship would be amazing, because it  _ would _ be. It’s just, for all that they blend together perfectly, Calum isn’t sure that they’d be  _ sexually _ compatible. Because while Calum loves to be held down and man-handled, Michael, well… 

Michael is a twink.

Calum doesn’t like to stereotype, hates the way that one small mannerism can affect the way the outside world judges someone. He doesn’t like to put someone under a specific category that they’ve not put themselves into. He isn’t trying to presume, but Michael, well… 

Michael is a twink, and submissive as hell. 

There’s no denying it, not with the way the other man will stretch himself across the counter while Calum’s cooking and pretend to be doing something wrong until Calum scolds him. Not with his petulant behavior and spontaneous bouts of unrestrained, mischievous energy. Not with his  _ body _ , perfectly curved and singing of  _ sin _ . 

And it’s sexy, it’s so unbelievably attractive to Calum, but he knows that he could never satisfy Michael, and - as much as he doesn’t want to admit it - he knows Michael could never satisfy him.

Michael clearly isn’t the type of person to take control in the bedroom - it’s just not something Calum can envision (but  _ fuck _ if he hasn’t tried). Calum doesn’t mind topping every once in awhile, doesn’t mind the feel of a tight, slick ass stretched around his cock, but even then he’s not great at taking control of things. He much prefers being told what to do, prefers when his body is manipulated into the position his partner wants to see him in most, prefers being  _ told _ when he can cum, if at all. 

It’s not like he’s asking for anything extreme, he just likes giving up control in the bedroom, and Michael's not exactly giving off dominant vibes. 

There’s nothing wrong with that either, Calum has to keep telling himself. Michael's most likely the very same as Calum in the bedroom, and that’s probably why they get along so well. It’s not a crime for Michael to be, in not so crude terms, a complete and utter  _ bottom _ ; it just makes things tough for Calum. 

⇟⇟⇟

But just because Michael isn’t a domineering type, that’s not to say he isn’t sexy as hell. 

There are small things he’ll do that drive Calum absolutely insane. When their laundry got mixed together and Michael walked around in Calum’s too-large sweater, Calum had to bite his own fist to keep from moaning at the sight. When they were cleaning up after dinner together and Michael slapped Calum’s ass with a metal spatula, Calum had to keep his crotch angled away from prying eyes for the rest of the night due to the overwhelming stiffy bulging obscenely at the zipper of his jeans. 

And this morning, as Calum’s minding his own business, enjoying a bowl of ricicles at the counter, Michael comes stepping out of the bathroom in just a towel. The steam from his shower billows out behind him, and it’s all Calum can do not to fall on his knees as Michael, clearly in a rush, races across the living room and into his room. The towel drops just before the door shuts behind him, and Calum’s spoon goes crashing to the floor.

There’s not enough recovery time in the world to help Calum get over the sight of Michael's backside, bare and so fucking pert, but even if there were, Michael would have no respect for it. After he gets dressed, he’s rushing out of his bedroom and offhandedly saying, “See you tonight,” before the front door is slammed and Calum’s left alone. 

He doesn’t even clean his bowl before he’s stomping towards his bedroom to get off on the memory while it’s still fresh. 

⇟⇟⇟

“I’m bored.”

Michael is sitting on the counter swinging his legs as Calum is cleaning up after dinner. They had bolognese and Calum cooked, of course, yet somehow Michael tricked him into cleaning. Sure, he offered to clear the table, but, regardless, he was clearing the dishes that Calum had to wash. It’s remarkably unfair, yet Calum can’t find it in himself to challenge it. 

“You could start drying the dishes and putting them away,” Calum offers. “It would help me out.”

Michael scoffs, and Calum doesn’t even have to look at him to see how disappointed with the suggestion he is. “That’s a shit option. It’s like you don’t even know me at all.” 

Calum shrugs, placing a plate on the drying rack. “That’s all I’ve got for you.” 

“You’re so young and you’re living in the biggest city in the world! You’ve got to have more excitement in your bones.”

“I’m the same age as you and we live forty minutes outside of  _ a _ city.”

“The specifics are irrelevant, Cal,” Michael waves him off. Calum’s heart hurts at the nickname. He knows there’s no intention behind it; it’s just the thought that things are so easy between them, but nothing can ever be… it hurts. “My point is, I’m bored. The dishes are nearly done. Let’s go do something.” 

Calum shakes his head. “It’s almost eight. Everything is closed.” 

Michael laughs, but the sound gets caught in his throat. When Calum looks at him, he’s looking incredulously right back at Calum. “Putting aside the fact that it’s not even dark outside, clubs are open. Pubs are open.”

“Is Subway open?”

Nobody says anything for a moment, but then Michael jumps off the counter. “You know what, never mind. I’m going to my room.” 

“It was funny!” Calum laughs. He’s not sure if he’s laughing over the joke or Michael's reaction. Both are equally hilarious to him. 

“You’re not allowed to tell any more jokes if that’s your idea of funny.”

“Well that’s hardly reasonable,” Calum protests. The tap is running beside him as he watches Michael to make sure he doesn’t slip away and leave Calum alone with the dishes. “I can’t control when they come out.”

“No comedic stamina then?”

There’s no smile on his face, but Calum’s inclined to believe he was trying to be funny. “Was that supposed to be a joke?” Michael's showing no indication of humor on his face.

“Yes, and it was fantastic,” Michael defends. “I’ll thank you not to insult it.”

“If I can’t tell jokes, then you can’t either.”

“You just watch me.”

Calum rolls his eyes and goes back to the dishes. He has a thousand different jokes running through his mind, one-liners that Michael would find hilarious, puns that would put Michael's attempt at a joke to shame. 

He doesn’t say any of them. Something tells him that the tangent they ran off on wasn’t what Michael was meaning to talk about. He goes back to the dishes and stays quiet when Michael takes his spot back on the countertop. They can discuss jokes another time. For now, he finishes and turns off the tap. 

The sink hasn’t even drained before Michael's enthusiastically suggesting, “Let’s go the movies.” 

“It’s got to be closed by now.”

Michael groans, leaning back and banging his head against the cabinet door. “Calum, honestly. It’s not even eight yet. The sun is still in the sky. And  _ we _ are going to the movies.”

Calum looks towards the window, mouth turned down as he wipes his hands off with the kitchen towel. The sun is just setting and he was hoping to spend the evening in his pajamas. “I don’t think anything good is out.”

“You are  _ not _ ruining this for me.” Michael hops off the counter again, his feet hitting the linoleum with a  _ thud _ . “Go put something nice on.” His hands press persistently and solidly against Calum’s chest as he shoves him out of the kitchen and into the hallway. Calum sighs, slightly annoyed at the sudden change in his plans, but he goes along with it. “And put on a sweater; it’s raining!”  

Calum decidedly doesn’t put on a sweater. They go to a movie and Michael insists on paying. It’s a nice gesture, all things considered, but it feels an awful lot like a date, and Calum’s left wondering where they stand. 

⇟⇟⇟

Calum gets sick, and despite what Michael says, it had absolutely nothing to do with not putting on a sweater. It happened because of the time of the year, and the way his allergies… 

It was because of the sweater. There’s no denying the chills that hit the morning after they got back from the movie, and since then it’s all been downhill. He probably should’ve listened to Michael, he should’ve worn that sweater, and all this could’ve been prevented.

Though, for all he pretends to be smug about being right, Michael doesn’t throw it in Calum’s face. There’s one half-hearted “I told you so,” but it’s immediately followed by a bottle of water and a bowl of homemade chicken noodle soup. It’s hard to be miserable when Michael's coddling him.

Michael feeds him, and cleans up after him, and when Calum’s falling asleep, Michael climbs in bed behind him and cuddles him, hands idly playing with loose strands of his hair. Calum hates that he likes him so much. He  _ really _ should have worn that sweater. 

⇟⇟⇟

They’ve developed a routine together. On Thursday nights, if neither of them have work, they make time to watch Game of Thrones together. It gives them something to bond over, something to look forward to, but mostly it's a time he can get close to Michael without worrying about his own ulterior motives.

And alright, he knows it’s not smart - he’s aware. He has to move on away from this terrible, dead end crush he’s got, but when lying on the couch with his feet in Michael's lap, his flatmate’s hands rubbing soothingly around his ankles, it’s too tempting to stay away. 

One day, Calum likes to think, things between them will be completely platonic, that nights like this won’t make Calum’s heart beat in his chest and that he’ll be able to call Michael his friend without feeling like a liar. 

Today is not that day. 

Michael doesn’t seem to notice how conflicted Calum is with his comfort. He looks completely settled and at ease, even going as far to express it all. “This is so relaxing,” he groans, adjusting his position until he’s where he wants to be. “I miss Luke, of course, but it’s nice having someone around who isn’t always talking.” 

“I wonder what that’s like,” Calum replies sarcastically. Michael pinches the skin of Calum’s ankle in between his fingers and Calum can’t help but laugh. 

Things between them are just so easy, and if Calum didn’t know that Michael was, without a doubt, a complete and utter bottom, he’d like to think that they’d have a great relationship. Sex aside, their personalities together are perfect - a puzzle not missing a single piece.

Calum thinks it’d be easy to fall into something with Michael, especially with all the time they spend with each other and the fun they have together. 

Usually it’s simple to ignore those intrusive thoughts, but when it’s nighttime and they’re together in their shared home… there’s not much he can do to get rid of them. 

Suddenly there’s a tickle on his foot and Michael’s got a smirk on his pretty lips, fingers dancing just under the arch of Calum’s foot. Calum goes to kick Michael, but he catches his ankle in a punishingly tight grip. He tries to pull it free, but Michael doesn’t let go easily. His mouth is set in a firm line and Calum’s confused until Michael grins, easy as anything, and let’s go of it. Calum clears his throat and pulls his legs away from Michael's lap.

The show is back on and Calum tries to put his focus on it, but he can see Michael moving out of the corner of his eye, and try as he might to ignore it, he can’t when Michael pauses the show. “Hey, can we talk for a minute?”

Calum feels a chilling shock go down at his spine, and all sorts of scenarios run through his head. The most prominent one is him getting kicked out and it makes his blood run cold. “Yeah, of course. Is something wrong?”

“No, just…” Michael sighs, clearly having trouble saying what he wants to. Calum’s heart beats faster. “Could you sit up?” 

Calum sits up, alarmed and blindly doing what Michael asked, watching as his hands rub his thighs tensely. “Are you - ”

Lips press hard against his own, cutting his sentence off. It takes Calum by surprise, but he definitely isn’t complaining, not when a probing tongue coaxes his lips apart, licking and tasting like Calum is the best dessert at the buffet and there’s only one more serving left. 

He stays still at first before giving in to the kissing… briefly. He forces himself to pull away. “Michael… what are you - ” He licks his lips impulsively, an attempt to put his mind on track, but it only serves to make him want to continue tasting Michael. “Why?”

“You, uh… That wasn’t something you wanted?” 

That’s the thing, isn’t it? Calum  _ does _ want that, he wants that so bad that he has to consciously stop himself from going back in for another kiss. He wants it so much it hurts. 

But he can’t have it.  _ They _ can’t have it. Knowing what he knows about their sexual preferences, Calum can’t let himself have what he so desperately wants. 

“I,” He has to clear his throat to get the words out. “I’m  _ attracted _ to you, but I don’t think this is a good idea?” 

“Is it because we live together?” Michael asks, curious and open and so damn sincere that Calum has trouble formulating his thoughts. 

“It’s not that,” he insists. “It’s just. I don’t see us - ” 

Calum can feel himself panicking, can feel the dark, uneasy edges of something bad prickling behind his skin. He doesn’t want to sound shallow or sex-obsessed, because that’s absolutely not it. They’d be great together, Calum knows that - it’s just that they couldn’t possibly satisfy each other. Calum said it once and he’ll say it again: it’d be  _ so _ easy to fall into something, everything, with Michael. 

Everything except the bed.

“Calum, it’s alright,” Michael rushes to say, gently grabbing one of Calum’s hands between his own. “I just thought there might be something there.” Calum nods, completely numb, hurt that he can’t be what Michael wants him to be. “We can be friends; I have no problem with that. I just wanted to make sure.” 

“Are we good?” Michael asks. “Friends?” 

“Friends,” Calum grins and Michael grins back. Only one of them is hollow. Everything is good, Michael doesn’t hate him, and they’re friends…

But Calum still wants more. 

⇟⇟⇟

They’re friends, and it’s fine, and there’s absolutely no residual weirdness from Michael's end. He’s just as tactile and twinky as usual, almost as though the kiss never happened. It’s fine, it’s  _ great _ , Calum likes being friends with Michael, loves it even. It’s just that, for all he enjoys their friendship, he can’t stop himself from being crazy about his flatmate. 

It was easy enough to deal with before, but now that Michael's not worried about overstepping boundaries, now that their feelings are in the open and they’re both aware that they have to move on, Michael isn’t afraid to touch and tease Calum more than ever. 

And when he’s not making Calum as tense and sexually frustrated as possible, he’s going out. A  _ lot. _ He often doesn’t return until late into the night. And sometimes, Calum doesn’t see him until the next morning. He’d like to remain ignorant and stay unaware of why Michael's always out. 

But he  _ does  _ know. And he doesn’t like it. 

⇟⇟⇟

Every once in a blue moon, Calum’s granted with the gift of his shift ending early, meaning that instead of getting home after midnight, he’s comfortable, dressed down, and alone by eight at night. 

It also means that for the next while, he has the flat to himself, Michael having disappeared sometime before Calum got home, and he can take his sweet time getting himself off without having to worry about keeping quiet. 

That’s why he’s alone in his bed, thumbing the outline of his cock through his boxers, enjoying the jolt of electricity that runs through him at the contact. The room is warm, but Calum’s lying atop his sheets, letting the thin, cool fabric balance out the temperature. It won’t help later when he’s desperate and sweaty and trying to reach his peak, but for now it’s nice. 

He lowers the waistband of his boxers, staring at his cock for a moment, flushed and full, before he wraps his hand around it, relishing in the sweet shock of the touch. 

It takes some maneuvering to grab the lube from his bedside table, but soon he has his cock slicked up, his hand taking it’s time teasing himself to full hardness just before the sun goes down. It shouldn’t feel like such an accomplishment to be touching himself at twilight, but that doesn’t stop a smug grin from taking over his face when he thinks about it. 

There’s porn playing quietly on Calum’s laptop, but he’s not really watching, just enjoying the sounds, letting the pleased moans fuel his imagination. He strokes himself once and a wet gasp escapes him. No matter how often he does this, it never gets old. 

He tries to keep his thoughts vague, tries to just enjoy the beautiful noises playing from his speakers, but like usual as of late, Michael's face comes to mind. The sharp curves of his smirk contradict his thin fingers pressing Calum’s wrists into the mattress. 

Calum moans, letting his hand speed up in its strokes, working over his cock. His thumb teases at his slit, playing with the precum beading slowly through the head. His thoughts of Michael overcome him while he lets himself get lost in the fantasy. 

He tries to keep his strokes slower, doesn’t want it to be over too soon, doesn’t want to stop this incredible feeling of skin against skin as he chases his own climax. His control isn’t amazing though, being left to his own devices doesn’t help any, and soon his hips are jumping as his fist goes down, properly fucking himself inside his own tight grip. 

The  _ slap slap slap _ of Calum’s skin echoes through the room, playing louder than the video on his laptop, and it just makes him hotter. There’s sweat beading at his brow and dripping slowly off his face. He can feel the salty dampness pooling at his tailbone, making everything slide easier, his body moving effortlessly as he gets himself off. 

In his mind, he’s picturing what it’d be like if Michael were there, if it were  _ Michael's _ hands working Calum over into a desperate, pleading mess, not letting him move his hips, holding him in place as he only gave Calum what he thought he deserved. 

He can’t have that, though, he knows it’s not probable, so for tonight he lives in the fantasy and cums, quick and dirty, as he envisions Michael's voice telling him he can. He shouts out, biting his bottom lip to stop the sound from getting too far, as he frantically fucks his own hand. 

It’s in the aftershocks, still coming down from the intensity of it all, that the squeak of the front door opening and the boom of it closing flood Calum’s senses. He doesn’t react at first, disoriented from his orgasm, but when there’s gentle laughter coming from the hallway, Calum jolts up in bed. 

The video’s still playing on the laptop, Calum’s tummy has a puddle of cum drying on it, and his roommate - the one he  _ just _ wanked over - is right outside the door. He hopes, more than anything, that his door remains closed. 

There’s a tense moment where the floorboards outside his room squeak. Calum holds his breath, his hands gently cupping his soft cock, shielding it from possible prying eyes, but then the footsteps continue past his room, followed by Michael's door closing. Calum lets out a sigh of relief and rushes to turn his laptop off. 

Close call. 

He grabs a towel off the floor and wraps it haphazardly around his waist. Peeking out his door first, he makes his way down the hallway and into the bathroom to clean himself off. Michael doesn’t come out of his room, Calum doesn’t get caught, and everything goes smoothly. 

At least, it all goes smoothly until Calum gets back to his bed and hears just why Michael went straight to his own room. 

There, on the other side of the wall, rests Michael and some  _ guy _ . The sound of their voices, quiet and playful, echo through the plaster, and Calum’s left with a nasty, twisting, sinking feeling in his gut. He’s not inept, he’s not ignorant, he  _ knows _ that since Calum turned him down Michael's been going out and finding fit lads to fuck him, but being faced with the evidence? It fucking hurts. 

Only… 

That’s not  _ Michael's _ voice begging for more. 

Calum just about falls off his bed when he hears it, when he hears the unfamiliar voice, speaking the words Calum had  _ just _ imagined saying to Michael. This stranger is actually expressing them. Calum shuffles farther up the bed, getting close enough to press his ear against the wall, and listens. 

It’s not his finest hour, he’ll agree with that, but that doesn’t stop him from leaning in close and eavesdropping to his roommate talking dirty. He’s not getting full sentences, just snippets, but that’s mostly because of how hard he’s breathing, caught up in the shock of hearing Michael's usually tongue-in-cheek tone lathered in arousal, sensual as he orders his partner around. 

Suddenly, Calum’s hard again. It’s not as full or persistent as earlier, still too close to his last orgasm to become completely hard so quickly, but it’s there, shaming Calum for being so insanely creepy. He tries not to touch himself, doesn’t want to be  _ that  _ guy, but he doesn’t have control, and when he hears Michael on the other side of the wall saying, “ _ Go ahead, baby, touch yourself, _ ” it’s pretty fucking difficult for him not to. 

When he grips his cock in his hand, it’s touch-sensitive from how quick it went from hard to soft to hard again, and Calum can’t help but gasp at the pleasure-pain of it all. He immediately bites his tongue to hold in the sound, not wanting to get caught. 

He tentatively slides his hand down his length, careful to keep his noises in, and works himself at a slow pace. He’s approaching this the way he  _ wish _ he could’ve the first time around. He wants to enjoy the moment, give himself time to appreciate the way the calluses on his hand add an extra layer to his touch. 

Calum can hear the other man moaning and pleading on the other side of the wall, but he ignores them. Nothing against them, Calum’s sure they’re sexy in their own way, but he’s too focused on Michael's praises, the gentle “ _ That’s it _ ”s and “ _ You’re doing great _ ”s that spill from his mouth and have Calum working to make it good. 

In the other room, Calum can hear the tell-tale sound of a wrapper, followed closely by Michael and the other man’s groans. Calum’s certain Michael's now fucking his friend. He’d be plenty more jealous if he weren’t reaping in his own personal benefits from the action. 

It takes a while before Calum can feel himself get to the desperate place that he knows Michael's friend’s been at for longer. Calum’s sure he wouldn’t have been able to last very long had it been the first time around, so he’s glad it’s not. 

Being able to hold himself in the pleasure for so long, keeping himself from getting wild and unrestrained is a blessing because it allows him to focus on the little things. He’s able to hear the soft groans Michael makes, the promises and compliments he shares. It gives Calum the ability to stay in the moment for longer, to enjoy this illicit moment he shouldn’t be listening in on, but is anyway. 

It lasts longer than it would have, but it doesn’t last much longer than that. Before he knows it, Calum’s a sweaty mess again, cock leaking profusely as it aches in his hand, sensitive from overuse but ready to cum anyway. He’s leaning against the wall, unable to support himself as all his energy is going towards furiously stroking his cock, and open-mouth panting wet heat in the corner of his room.

It’s all too intense and Calum’s moments away from cumming when - 

“ _ Stop. _ ”

A sob almost wretches itself from his throat at the command, and his rhythm falters, a heavy bead of precum blurting out in the absence of his fist. He can hear the other man’s hand slapping against his skin still, but soon the sound stops, replaced with a surprised shout. Calum imagines Michael's hand slapping at the other man’s wrist and forcing him to stop. His own cock twitches in his grip. 

Calum’s hand falls away from his cock in what may be the most difficult move he’s ever done. His hand, wet with his own precum, hangs limply at his side as he tries his hardest not to taste the release. 

Michael says something to the other man, Calum can hear the rumble of his voice, but no words are coming through. He’s left hard, pulsing, and ready to cum already, but he refuses to do so until he gets Michael's permission.

He’s so fucked. 

Soon, he can hear the words through the wall, can hear the ridiculing tone Michael holds. “ _ Oh, you’re desperate, are you? _ ” Calum nods, knowing Michael isn’t talking to him. “ _ You want to have a bit of cry because you can’t cum? _ ” Calum drags the tip his nose against the wall as his eyes roll back. He didn’t want to cry before, but he does now. “ _ You’re lucky I’m even fucking you at all, baby. Do you even deserve it? _ ” 

Calum’s shaking his head, holding back tears and his impending orgasm. Michael voice before was hard enough to hear, but now it’s … now it’s like he’s speaking into a megaphone right next to Calum. It makes it feel all the more real, makes it feel more personal. It feels like Michael's there, watching, waiting for Calum to impress him. And while Calum would do anything to make Michael proud, but by the tone of his voice, it doesn’t sound like that’s happening. 

And for some fucked up reason, that just makes Calum harder. 

It feels like an eternity before Michael's telling them, “ _ You can continue. _ ” Calum tries not to sigh too loudly in relief, but it’s quite the feat, especially with Michael sounding like he’s doing them a favor. 

It’s not often Calum gets off twice in one night, but when it happens, it’s always hot, desperate, and messy, which is exactly what Calum’s craving as he chases his own release. 

The tension just behind his cock coils and builds, and soon Calum’s on the edge. He reaches his free hand underneath him to cup his balls, hoping that the pressure prolongs his orgasm. He wants to wait until Michael cums - he wants  _ permission _ . 

He can feel tears at the back of his eyes starting to release themselves. He’s pulled so tightly that his body is letting go of anything it can just to hold himself off for a bit longer. It’s a lot, and he’s moments from breaking the rule he set for himself, when he hears Michael's tinny, ecstasy-coated voice saying, “ _ Go ahead, baby. You earned it. _ ”

Calum nods frantically as his hand strips harshly at his cock. He  _ does _ deserve this, he tells himself. There’s nobody who deserves it more. 

He cums with a muted cry just moments before he can hear the duo in the other room doing the same. There’s only a bit of shame that he holds for being the first to let go, but he’s panting into the wall, exhausted and sore in the best way, and he’s  _ happy _ . He feels like he could lie back and sleep for a decade feeling nothing but satisfied and completely empty like never before. 

Usually, Calum has to use his fingers to feel this wrung out. The fact that all it took was his hand and Michael's demanding voice telling him to come is a testimony to just how  _ good _ it was. 

But that’s just the problem. Michael didn’t exactly sound like a twink when he was fucking some guy in his room with all he had. He didn’t exactly sound like a twink when he was barking orders, telling his partner to stop touching himself before he came. He didn’t exactly sound like a twink when he was mocking the lad for being desperate. He sounded like every one of Calum’s fantasies, everything Calum ever hoped he’d be, and Calum told him they wouldn’t be a good match… 

He may have made a big fucking mistake. 

⇟⇟⇟

Calum can’t seem to look Michael in the eyes after the night when Calum crossed every boundary known to mankind. There’s something so off-putting about knowing the truth now, and he can’t stop himself from hearing Michael's voice telling him to touch himself anytime they’re in the same room together. 

Needless to say, things only spiral from there. 

He can see Michael's domineering personality in everything he does. He stands tall, shoulders back. He never asks Calum to pass the salt but orders him. He praises Calum for simple things like remembering how Michael takes his coffee. Michael's definitely  _ not _ one to take orders in bed, and it’s driving Calum insane. 

It gets to the point that Calum’s tripping over his words and his feet at anything Michael says. And it’s obvious that he’s doing so. He knows he looks every bit the fool he is, but he can’t stop it. He just can’t. 

Every single thing he does leaves Calum wanting more. 

There’s also the fact that he gets off to Michael's voice a  _ lot _ . In fact, after the first few times of listening in, if Michael doesn’t bring a boy home, Calum can’t get off. He tries -  _ God _ , does he try - but there’s nothing that compares Michael voice telling him to touch himself. It gets him off like nothing else.  

Calum really shouldn’t have judged him. 

⇟⇟⇟

Things run like that - tense and morally  _ wrong _ \- for a while. Michael brings lads home from the bar and Calum listens in as he gets himself off. It’s not a great system, but it all goes well. At least, until Michael catches Calum. 

It’s been a rough few nights for Calum and the only thing that’s calmed the stiffness he’s been carrying with him has been listening to Michael. He really drew things out tonight, and at the end of it, Calum was sweating buckets and praying to every God he could. It’s just what he needed, and after cleaning himself off in the shower, he thinks he’s ready for bed. 

Or he would be, but just as he’s coming out of the bathroom, somebody else is stepping into the hallway. 

“Calum?”

“ _ Michael _ .” Calum jumps when he sees Michael, both of them without a shirt. His heart is racing, and it’s all he can do not to run out of the flat and never return. “Hi. Good morn - er, evening.”   

“When did you get home?” Michael asks, avoiding Calum’s pleasantries. His eyes are narrowed and it feels like he’s a lie detector ready to expose Calum for every perverted crime he’s committed these past few weeks. “I thought you worked tonight.” 

Calum clears his throat, hoping more than anything that his voice doesn’t shake. “I wasn’t feeling well so I called off.” 

“ _ Oh _ . So…” Michael trails off and in a move mimicking Calum, clears his own throat. “You’ve been home all night?”

“Yeah…”

Neither of them say anything, letting the silence stretch on and torture them in an already awkward situation. It seems that nothing needs to be said, though, as Michael's plaything for the night yells out, “ _ Michael _ ?” from where the bedroom door is cracked open. 

Michael glances back, looking panicked, and Calum tried to ease the situation. “Oh, do you have someone over?”

“Yeah, I just. I met someone from the bar and - ”

“I get it.” It feels odd, that Michael's the one stumbling over his words and trying to explain himself. He’s done nothing wrong. Calum’s the one who should be ashamed. “You don’t have to explain yourself. It’s your flat too.”

“Right,” Michael nods his head once, a firm bob, before standing up straight again, back in his usual, dominating position. “Well, I’m going to go… back in there. See you tomorrow?”

“Good night, Michael.” 

“Good night.”

They both go back to their respective rooms and Calum keeps his gentle smile on his face the entire time, playing up the hoax that he’s alright with how the night’s unfolded.

_ It’s alright, _ Calum tells himself.  _ In the morning everything will go back to normal. _ But he knows he’s lying. Everything will be weird and Michael won’t be able to look Calum in the eyes. There won’t be any eye contact in the house all because Calum’s a horny deviant who can’t keep his eyes to himself and just has to fuck up everything good in his life. 

⇟⇟⇟

After the uncomfortable meeting in the hallway, Michael stops bringing men home. Completely unrelated to that: Calum stops getting off. 

Every time he has a moment to himself, every time he tries to bring himself to completion, he feels like he’s disobeying Michael, and he can never push himself over that edge. It’s fucked up, unfair, and his balls have never been this blue. 

It frustrates him in more than just the bedroom, too. It seems that there isn’t a limit to what frustrates Calum nowadays. When the cable cuts out, or his popcorn burns, or even when his sock isn’t perfectly aligned on his foot, he’s raising hell and throwing tantrums. 

But when it comes to Michael, things are even worse. He can’t handle even the smoothest of conversations without staring at Michael's hands or his lips. Michael can’t tell him to do something without Calum nearly fucking moaning. And the small bickering arguments they used to have that Calum loved now end in slammed doors and stomping around like a child. Calum is a loose cannon ready to explode. 

And he  _ would _ , if he just had Michael's permission. 

⇟⇟⇟

Just as Calum suspected, Michael isn’t one to let the water boil over the edge of the pot. He only lets the negativity go on for a week before he’s cornering Calum in the living room and sitting him down for a talk. 

The air around them is silent save for the  _ whirring _ of the fan in the corner of the room. Calum doesn’t want to be the first to speak, doesn’t want to address the elephant in the room because, well, he  _ is _ the elephant. He’d rather sit quietly until he perishes than confront Michael with his feelings. 

Eventually, the tension must get to Michael. “Calum,” he sighs. “I think we need to talk.”

“I…” Calum bites back his sarcastic response about them already talking, and smiles thinly. “Yeah, sure.”

“Are you alright?”

Calum jumps in surprise at the question. He expected the bluntness, but he’s completely thrown off by the sincerity and concern. “I’m okay, I guess. I got to work a bit late today, but I wasn’t yelled at or anything. Felt a bit off with - ”

“I don’t mean today.”

Calum knows what he means, knows that he’s asking about how thick the air has been with stress the past while. He doesn’t want to face the situation though. “Do you mean like mental health wise? I’ve been fine, I think.”

“I don’t know if you’re doing it on purpose,” Michael snaps, and Calum’s alarmed at the bite in his tone, “but stop jerking me around. You’ve been tetchy lately, and I want to know if it’s something you want to talk about.” 

That’s just the thing, isn’t it? Calum  _ doesn’t _ want to talk about it actually. That’s what he’s been dreading since the moment he and Michael bumped into each other in the hallway. Talking about it can only make things worse, at this point. Especially if Calum were to reveal the  _ real _ reason behind his appearance in the hallway. It’s -

The whole thing is a mess waiting to happen. It’s full of lengthy discussions and admissions of feelings, and it’ll probably end in a restraining order because nobody signed up for a peeping tom as a roommate. 

So Calum stays silent, doesn’t give in to the soothing sound of Michael's voice, doesn’t want to be tricked into sharing just because Michael's a kind person. 

“We don’t  _ have  _ to, Callie.” The pet names,  _ that _ ’s what got Calum into this mess in the first place, so he rolls his eyes. “I -  _ Did you just roll your eyes at me _ ?” Calum’s eyes widen at Michael's astonishment; he didn’t think he’d be caught. “I’m just trying to help Calum. I don’t want to share a flat with an asshole who can’t even look me in the eyes. Now either tell me what the fuck I did or pack up your shit.” Venom has begun to bleed into his words, but Calum doesn’t think it’s directed at him so much as the situation. “This is ridiculous.”

Calum cringes, his lips pursing in response. He doesn’t speak because he doesn’t want Michael to hate him. Though maybe his logic is flawed because at the rate they’re going now, being best mates again doesn’t look an item on the menu. 

“Forget it.”

Michael shakes his head and gets up, pressing harshly on his knees as he huffs out in disappointment. He starts to walk away, and Calum’s stricken with the sudden fear of actually being kicked out. It’s this panic that he blames for yelling out -

“I thought you were a bottom!”

Michael freezes in his path, and Calum slaps a palm over his eyes in embarrassment. He doesn’t want to see Michael's face, doesn’t want to know what look comes alongside his “ _ Excuse me? _ ”

“I thought you were, like.” He takes in a deep breath to prepare himself and can hear it skip shallowly in his chest. There’s no turning back now, and that’s almost scarier than the threat of eviction. “You’re probably going to kick me out anyway, so I don’t - ”

“You thought I was a bottom?” Michael's voice squeaks out, sharp and confused. “ _ That’s _ why you’ve been walking about like somebody pissed in your frosties? What the fuck is that?”

“ _ That  _ isn’t why.”

“Then what is it?” Michael asks. Calum mumbles to himself in response, knows that he has to explain himself, but letting Michael hear it is too humiliating to face. Michael doesn’t hear though, and doesn’t seem to want to put up with Calum’s antics today. “Speak up,” he orders. 

“ _ I’m  _ a bottom.” 

Michael huffs out a laugh. “I know.”

“What does that mean?”

He ignores Calum’s narrowed eyes and the pout placed on his bitten lips. “Don’t change the subject. What does this have to do with you avoiding me?”

Calum huffs and glares at the table top. Michael stands there waiting, and Calum thinks momentarily about making a run for it. He could probably get halfway down the stairs before Michael could catch up - 

That’s more trouble than it’s worth though, and if Michael isn’t running, he’s probably willing to hear Calum out, so Calum should just bite the bullet and be honest. 

“I want to go out with you but I thought we were incompatible, so that’s why I said no when you - that night we kissed.” He confesses, and as Michael stays quiet, he continues, “But recently I’ve… seen the major fucking error of my ways.”  

“You’re being cryptic. Just say what you want to say.”

To be fair, Calum doesn’t  _ want _ to say it, but he also doesn’t want to be kicked out, so he nods and clarifies. “I just, I told you - that night when you kissed me, I told you I didn’t think we’d work together, but that was because I thought you were kind of twinky - ”

“ _ Twinky _ ?!”

“I didn’t think we could give each other what we needed in the bedroom, so I turned you down.”

Michael doesn’t move, doesn’t make his way out the door or closer to Calum - everything is at a standstill. “And what changed?”

“Just - ” he avoids eye contact, not sure if he can look at anything other than his own shaking hands and he further explains himself. “Just that I’ve seen that I was misjudging you. And - and when you brought that lad home, he was - like,” Calum takes in a deep breath and chooses his words carefully. He’s not ready to admit everything to Michael, not trying not to give himself away so soon. “He wasn’t a top. So, I figured - ”

Calum doesn’t finish his thought because Michael walks over and kisses him. It’s innocent, nice, nothing like their first kiss, but it’s still sweet and wonderful, and Calum thinks there’s a lot of feeling stored in it.  

“I like you too, you idiot,” Michael says, and Calum bites his lip. “But this… this  _ internalizing _ shit, it’s not going to do.” Calum nods, not wanting to speak until he’s certain Michael's done. “I don’t want you bottling things up and holding them in. If we’re in this, we’re going in together, and I’d like for you to be honest about whatever you’re feeling so we don’t get to this point. I’m a talker, I like to talk things out, so I need you to be open with me.” 

Calum blushes about Michael being a talker because he knows - he  _ knows _ \- that Michael certainly does love to talk, and that’s part of the reason they’re where they are now. 

“I can do that.” 

That night they don’t sleep together - just talk. But Calum can’t find it in himself to be disappointed, not when he has Michael laughing at his jokes, not when he’s wrapped in a cloud of pure elation at Michael's smile, feeling like a giant weight has been lifted off his shoulders. 

⇟⇟⇟

Their first date comes only a short week after their first kiss. It’d have been much sooner, but they couldn’t get their schedules to line up until Tuesday night. They do manage to find time, and they go out to dinner, Calum insisting on paying, going so far as to force the bill out of Michael's hand. They have a great time, and the entire ride home is full of laughter and smiles, and Calum’s not sure anything could make the night better. 

But then they get home and the mood changes completely. 

They’re hardly even through the front door before Michael's shoving Calum against it, not even wincing at the  _ slam _ of the wood closing. Michael's lips angle in on Calum’s and then they’re kissing, against the front door of their shared flat, and Calum’s in heaven. 

They’ve kissed before, but not like this, not with  _ intention _ . Before, it was all innocent, not leading anywhere else, but now there’s heat behind it, and Calum loses himself. 

The stubble on Michael's cheeks rubs harshly against Calum’s bare skin, but there’s not even an inch of him that wants to complain. The sharp stings of it, the small scratches, are sure to be annoying in the morning, but for now it just makes everything feel all the more real. 

“You want to take this to the bedroom, baby?” Michael asks between kisses, pulling away to inquire about moving this further. 

Calum nods eagerly, but makes no move to speak or head towards Michael's room. He only wants to keep kissing Michael against the solid wood of the door. Sure, hitting the other bases is something Calum wants to do - and  _ soon _ \- but for right now, just feeling Michael's body against his own is a home run. 

Michael has other plans, though, and pulls Calum off of the door and down the hallway. They pass Calum’s room completely, which is probably for the best. All Calum would be able to do is think about the other side of the wall. 

Calum’s first steps into Michael's room are truly his  _ first _ steps into the room. It hasn’t hit him until just now, but he’s truly never been in the space before. It’s messy - something that absolutely does not surprise him - but it’s messy in the way that says it’s lived in and cared for, which is lovely. 

But that doesn’t stop Calum from tripping over a pair of Doc Martens. 

Michael squawks in surprise, but Calum can’t help himself from laughing as he’s sprawled out on the floor. Michael just looks down on him with a fond smile, and suddenly the air gets thinner around them. 

“C’mon, Callie.” Michael reaches down and help Calum to his feet, but it doesn’t last because as soon as they’re across the room, he’s planting a palm in middle of Calum’s chest and pushing him onto the bed. 

On his way down, Calum can’t help but thank whatever deity is looking down on him for not letting him fuck everything up. Things so easily could have gone downhill, but they didn’t, and now Calum’s biggest dream is about to come true. 

He scoots up the bed until he’s at the head of it, resting back on his elbows. He watches Michael climb onto the mattress, crawling forward slowly on his knees. Calum bites his lip to try and contain his smile, but it doesn’t really work, and Michael's laughing by the time captures Calum’s lips in his own, his tongue coming in with a gentle slide. 

In almost no time at all, Michael's clever fingers come up to undo the buttons on Calum’s shirt, and the two chuckle through their kisses at the difficulty that comes with untucking the fabric from his belted trousers. They get the shirt off, but Calum doesn’t see what happens to it because he’s too focused on the way Michael's hand free hand moves to palm at Calum’s clothed cock. 

“F- _ fuck _ ,” Calum gasps wetly, the slide of the denim rough against his skin, but the pressure feels too good for him to complain. 

Michael hums, watching his hand where it rubs consistently against the fly of Calum’s jeans. “That feel good, baby?” Michael asks, and Calum has to physically stop his eyes from rolling into the back of his head. He’d forgotten just how hot Michael's voice is when he’s turned on. 

It takes a lot of effort for Calum to grab Michael's wrist and pull his touch away from Calum. “Mikey,” he protests weakly. “We should talk first.” 

“Is everything alright?” Michael pulls himself out of Calum’s grip slowly, locking eyes with Calum. He looks so genuinely concerned and confused, and Calum almost doesn’t want to ruin their moment, but he knows he has to, knows he has to be honest with Michael before they go any further. 

“Everything is great,  _ really  _ great.” Michael smirks, and Calum wishes he could see that cocky, happy expression on Michael's face for the rest of his life, but he know it has to end. “But I have to tell you something.”

“Of course. What is it?” 

“I…” he trails off. “I can - The walls are thin.”

Michael laughs, and Calum immediately knows his point didn’t get across. “Yeah? I’m not sure we can do much about the structure, man. The building is already, well, built.”

“No, Mikey, it’s that they’re  _ really  _ thin,” He clarifies. “You can hear through them.”

Michael looks confused but his smiles isn’t diminishing. “Well I’m sure my flatmate won’t mind what’s going on in here.”

“Right, because your flatmate can hear what’s going on in here.”

“Right, because he’s  _ in _ here.”

“ _ Michael _ .”  

Michael laughs loudly. “Calum, I really don’t know where you’re going with this.”

Calum huffs, almost aggravated that Michael couldn’t just read between the lines so Calum doesn’t have to actually admit that, well, “I could hear you when you brought boys home.”

Michael doesn’t immediately react, his face passive, blank, and adorably confused. Calum can see the moment his words hit, the way Michael's jaw drops, almost looking insulted, before his eyes narrow, a chillingly inquisitive look taking over his face.

“That night in the hall - ” Calum’s nodding his head before Michael finishes his question, wishing more than anything he weren’t shirtless right now. “You could hear that?”

“Michael, let me explain,” Calum rushes to say, leaning forward and grabbing Michael's forearms, feeling nothing but relief when he doesn’t pull away. “I didn’t  _ mean _ to listen - well, the first time I didn’t - ”

“The  _ first _ time?!”

Calum bites his tongue briefly, a slight punishment for explaining this so poorly. “Yes, the first time. It happened more than once.” If Michael's hurt, his face doesn’t show it, if he’s angry, he doesn’t show it. All he’s showing is confusion, and Calum grasps at straws thinking of what to say to make this even an inch better. “I, um, I was in bed the first time it happened, and I heard, and I - ”

Calum’s voice is wavering, shaking as he tries to find his footing again. He knows how bad it sounds, how creepy and perverse it was for him to listen in, but in the moment it felt so  _ right _ . 

“I got off,” Calum admits. “I heard your voice, and I got off to it.” 

The surprise is evident on Michael's face at Calum’s admission and Calum cringes, waiting for the violent reaction. 

It doesn’t come. Michael's eyebrows narrow and Calum braces himself, but then Michael says, in a honey-coated voice, “Well, we can’t have that, can we baby?” 

And Calum’s brain explodes. 

“What - ”

“Oh no, baby,” Michael cuts him off. “You’ve had your chance to talk and now it’s mine.” His hand comes down heavily on Calum’s shoulder and pushes him flat onto his back. 

There are a lot of things that’ve surprised Calum - when his sister announced her engagement, when he got accepted into uni, when Ashton told him he had to move out - but his reaction has never been to moan. Now, though… now Calum’s turned on. He expected to be yelled at, to be thrown out of the room, at the very least he expected to be asked ‘why?’ but now that Michael's closing in on him, he can’t say he’s upset with the outcome. 

Michael lies down beside Calum, still fully clothed, and fits his face into Calum’s neck, so his soft breaths blow gently across his skin. Michael's fingers dance gently across the curve of his own hip, and Calum eagerly awaits for them to make contact on his skin. 

Only, that never happens. Michael stays close enough for Calum to feel his body heat, but he never makes contact. 

“Mikey - ”

“What’d I say?” Michael asks. “You’ve talked enough. I think it’s time you stayed quiet.” Calum moans gently into the air, and Michael chuckles gently into his neck. “Why don’t you go ahead and get undressed?” 

The sentence isn’t even finished before Calum’s arching his lower body off the bed to pull his trousers down. His belt is still fastened, but he doesn’t have the patience to undo it, not with Michael chuckling in his ear. 

It takes effort for Calum to get the overly-tight waistband down his hips and thighs, but soon they’re sliding off his body, taking Calum’s pants with them. As he kicks the fabric off his feet, it works to push his body closer to Michael's so the sides of his thighs are touching the front of Michael's. 

“Now, baby,” Michael croons. “I want you to touch yourself for me, just like you did on the other side of that wall.” 

Calum’s eyes flicker over to where Michael's wall sits on the other side of the bed, and he’s almost haunted by the fact that there were other people in this position, other  _ men _ , and that Michael did the same thing he’s doing now, but with other people. 

Although, that’s  _ not _ what making his stomach twist. It’s the idea that while Michael was with those other men, Calum was listening, was touching himself to the thought of being here, on Michael's bed, getting told to touch himself. Now that he is here, that his fantasy is coming alive, he’s harder than ever. 

He reaches down his body, taking his time at first, enjoying the chills he gets when Michael's harsh breath hit his neck. His fingers skate delicately down his chest, but once they get to his ribs, all patience disappears, and his hand runs the rest of the way, not hesitating to wrap itself around his cock. 

His own moan drowns out what Michael says, so he’s surprised when he flicks his thumb against the head and Michael grips his wrist. “I thought I said to go slow?”

“I didn’t - ”

“No excuses, baby,” Michael cuts him off, and Calum sighs into the air. “Just go slow, yeah?” Calum nods and Michael releases his wrist - though Calum wishes he wouldn’t have. 

This time, instead of going fully into it, Calum eases his hand into the motions, taking his time to get himself off, slowly dragging down to the base and raising it back up, only to repeat. He’s done it like this a million times, and he’d say it’s basic and boring, only it doesn’t feel that way with Michael's airy voice praising him as he does so. 

When he rubs his thumb against his head to collect some of the precum pooling there, he looks over to check that it’s alright with Michael, but the other man doesn’t seem to have a problem with it, so Calum does it again. 

And again.

And -

“Don’t be greedy,” Michael voice cuts through the air, sharp.

With a huff, Calum gets back into it, softly moaning when his wrist twists the right way, or when he manages to reach his fingertips down to cup his balls or when - 

Or when Michael reaches out and pinches one of Calum’s nipple in between his fingers. 

The room is heating up, and Calum’s panting into the already humid air, making everything feel more intense than it normally would be. There’s sweat beading at the small of his back, and when he jerks up into his own fist, it makes the sheets slide and bunch at his back. It’s only a slight discomfort, but it makes everything feel  _ more _ . 

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Michael says into Calum’s collar, and it serves to rile the boy up. 

“ _ Please _ .”

Instead of admonishing Calum for talking, Michael only cooes. “Alright, Callie. Go ahead.” Calum’s not absolutely certain what Michael's speaking of when he tells him to go ahead, but he doesn’t protest when Calum’s hips jump into his fist. “That’s right, fuck yourself for me.” 

“Sh- _ shit _ .” 

Calum jerks his hand harshly down to the base, the slide much easier than it was earlier with the way he’s leaking, so close to the edge that his body’s starting to get desperate in anticipation. His hand strips his cock, his grip unforgiving as he chases his own relief. He’s almost there, teetering on the edge of something wonderful. 

As he’s working himself over, Michael's doing the same on Calum’s chest, his pace much slower, leisurely in comparison to Calum’s hurried hands. It’s an odd juxtaposition, but Calum can’t say he’s disappointed when Michael manages to pull a nipple at the same time Calum presses his thumb into his frenulum, making him gasp wordlessly. 

He’s moments away from cumming, and he’s not sure what’s keeping him. His hands work hard, his hips jump higher, but he doesn’t cum. He’s unsure of what he’s waiting for. At least until - 

“You close, baby?” Michael voice has a desperate edge to it, that almost makes Calum want to laugh. He doesn’t even want to know what his own voice would sound like at this point. “Why don’t you cum for me?” 

It isn’t the fact that Michael gives him permission that pushes him over the edge, but that he says “for me” because that’s what this is, for him. 

Calum cums with a muted cry into his own hand, feeling the immediate exhaustion hit. But just like that first night of listening in on Michael, the promise of something good keeps him waiting for more. 

The heat from beside him disappears as Michael rolls over. There’re a few small crashes and then Michael rolls back next to Calum, victoriously welding a tube of what must be lube with a ridiculously proud grin on his face. 

Calum’s weak. 

“You think you have another in you, baby?” Michael asks, and Calum nods his head in response. Michael laughs, “You can talk now, Cal.”

Calum gasps in a breath of air to speak, but instead starts coughing, his hand - the one not covered in his own spunk - coming up to stop the hacking. 

When he manages to calm down, Michael giggling next to him. Calum can’t help but smile as well. “Thanks for the help,” he rasps, not sure if the poor quality of his voice is from the coughing or his previous orgasm. “So glad you were there.”

“Sorry.” Michael sounds anything but apologetic, but Calum can’t find it in him to mind. “C’mere.” He grabs Calum’s neck, pulling him into a kiss, and for all that Calum’s throat is sore, he believes nothing soothes it more than Michael's tongue. 

Michael pulls away too soon, though Calum can’t say he’s upset when Michael pops the cap on the lube and drizzles some onto two of his fingers. He doesn’t warm it, something Calum’s going to say something about… sometime. Not now because even though it’s chilly, Michael finger rubbing the slick onto his hole is much better than nothing at all. 

The first finger slides in easily enough, only a slight bit of resistance as Michael opens Calum up. There’s a sharp intake of breath upon its entry, but Calum doesn’t know if it was from him or Michael. It doesn’t matter, he tells himself, not when the second finger is making its way carefully aside next to the first. 

Michael stretches them apart, hissing between his teeth as he watches them. “You’re so tight.” 

“You’re so cheesy,” Calum mocks him in a pinched voice. Michael retaliates by putting in a third finger without any warning, and the surprise hits Calum more than the slight pain of it, and he’s crying out. 

Michael works his fingers in and partly-out of Calum, stretching them at infrequent intervals to keep Calum on his toes. It feels magical, and sooner than Calum would’ve thought possible, he can feel his cock filling up again. Not quickly, and not enough to hurt just yet, but enough so that Michael pulls his hand away, finding it an appropriate time to get to the fun part. 

He grabs a condom - out of fucking  _ nowhere _ , but Calum’s too into the moment to question it - and slowly rolls it onto himself. He looks Calum over, his eyes spending a moment too long looking at his cock before he’s grinning at Calum’s face. “How do you want it, babe?”

“I could go hands and knees?” Calum offers. “That might make things easier.” Michael agrees, so he withdraws his fingers and they work to turn Calum over, having him rested on his elbows and knees. He can feel Michael weight leaning against his bottom half, and it’s  _ hot _ , and Calum’s so turned on he can hardly breathe.

Behind him, Michael is humming quietly as he lubes himself up, and the tune sounds familiar. Calum tries to hum in his own head to catch what the song is, but then Michael's voice raises higher and he’s singing, “ _ You and me baby ain’t nothin but mammals  _ \- ”

“Shut  _ up _ ,” Calum can’t help but laugh, and he can hear Michael echo the sound before lining his cock up to Calum’s hole. 

It’s so silly, but Calum’s elated that even as they’re about to fuck, even as Michael is slowly sliding his length into Calum, they can still have a laugh. In a few years, if anyone were to ask when he knew Michael was “the one,” he’d tell them about this moment. 

Well, maybe not in crude terms. And maybe he’ll say that they made love. He’s not sure exactly how he’ll phrase it, but he’ll definitely leave out the bruising grip Michael has on his hips, and the unrelenting stretch as his cock fucks into Calum with concentrated thrusts. 

That’s just for him and Michael.

When Michael bottoms out, Calum sobs out in relief, the pressure of Michael's cock filling him to the brim. Michael's hand reaches out and pets gently at his lower back, and Calum’s thankful for the contact to keep him grounded, even if it actually does nothing to ease the slight pain that no amount of prep could’ve prevented. 

He adjusts easily, though he’s not certain how Michael has such control over himself to stay so still as Calum adapts to the burn. 

Eventually, the pain ebbs away, and Calum starts to seek out the good part. Of course being full, feeling stretched, having Michael inside of him, it all feels wonderful, but he knows it can get better, he wants to feel the same shade of desperate he did early, the same hunger he did when he was sitting on the other side of the wall. 

He wants to  _ feel _ it. 

Calum’s hips begin to work slowly, gently pulling forward, easing Michael's cock out of him halfway and then taking it all back in, a slow effort to find the right angle to  _ really _ make things interesting. 

It doesn’t take long for Michael to catch onto what Calum’s doing and start to aide in his search. With each time Michael bottoms out, his hands slant Calum’s waist to work at a new angle. 

That’s not to say it doesn’t already feel amazing. They slow push and pulls gradually get faster until Calum’s all but slamming himself against Michael groin, sweating in his effort. Even if they never manage to find what they’re looking for, Calum won’t be disappointed. 

They keep up the tandem work, Michael managing to hold the steady pace while making subtle changes to the angle of his thrusts. It’s getting tiresome, and Calum’s not sure he can get up his end until - 

Calum freezes up suddenly, abandoning his movement in favor of a shocked gasp. His hands shoot out to grip the sheets so hard that one edge completely flies off the mattress. He ignores it, can’t find the time to do anything about it in between throwing himself backwards and yelling “ _ There, There! _ ” 

Michael keeps at it, his thrust unforgiving and the angle something out of a fairytale. The wet slap of their skin is covered by Calum’s babbling of “yes yes yes” and “more more more”. 

It doesn’t take long,  _ can’t _ take any longer with the euphoric glide of Michael's cock against Calum’s prostate and the resulting  _ squeeze _ of his ass around said cock, before Michael is cumming, filling up the condom inside of Calum, and falling on top of his back. 

Calum isn’t finished - close, but still hard as rock underneath Michael. He resumes his movement on Michael's spent cock until Michael hisses and guides himself out of Calum hole. Calum can hear him discarding the condom and groans helplessly into the bed. 

When Michael returns to the bed, he doesn’t give a warning before he flips Calum onto his back and takes him into his mouth. Calum cries out in surprise, his hips jumping and his hand grasping onto Michael by the wisps of hair at the back of his neck. 

Michael takes him deep, probably just to show Calum he can, but then retreats up and curls his tongue over the head, dipping to trace the edges of Calum’s foreskin before taking the entire length in his mouth again. Calum’s trembling with the effort it takes not to thrust blindly into the wet heat of Michael's mouth. His head is thrown back, and he’s fisting strands of Michael's hair in his grip. 

Michael brings one of his hands up to cup Calum’s hip, coaxing them up in a thrust. “ _ Fuck, _ ” Calum groans. He begins to move, cock sliding in and out of Michael's mouth, the tip of it hitting the back of his throat with every thrust.  

It’s not even two minutes in before Michael's mouth sends him overboard and he’s yelling out with his second orgasm of the night. Michael stays where he is, swallowing every bit of what Calum gives him, and if that isn’t the hottest thing Calum’s ever felt… 

Michael pulls off of him with a smack and then leans forward to kiss Calum, his tongue making its way into his mouth with -  _ fuck _ \- with Calum’s cum still in his mouth, pushing into Calum’s and -

Okay,  _ that’s _ the hottest thing Calum’s ever felt. 

Michael falls down next to Calum with a sigh and Calum swallows, hoping more than anything it isn’t enough to get him hard again, because as much as he knows he’s too exhausted to do it again - Michael just turns him on in the worst of ways. 

“I hope the neighbors are out,” Michael comments casually as they’re catching their breath. “You’re awfully loud.” Despite his exhaustion, Calum finds the energy to giggle - if only to see the delight on Michael's face.

⇟⇟⇟

They’ve been officially dating for a few weeks when they agree that it’s best for Calum to move into Michael's room. He already spends most nights there anyway, so moving his clothing into the room was a no brainer, and eventually, the idea that they should just merge rooms completely started sounding great. 

It’s not that hard of a job - not as hard as moving buildings, at least -  but they still recruit Ashton to help out. Michael says it’s for the heavier lifting, but Calum thinks his two friends are slowly starting to grow on each other. The thinly-veiled insults are few and far between, nowadays. 

They’ve gotten most of Calum’s belongings out of the room, aside from the bed and a couple boxes from the closet, when Ashton looks around the bare space and hums appreciatively. “Have you thought of renting that room out?” he asks. “You could put a post on a more reliable site than Craigslist this time. I think going through a real estate agency could get you even more money on the side.” 

Michael nods along, steeping beside Ashton and following his gaze. “That’s not a bad idea, actually.” He turns towards Calum, mouth quirked up in a semi-smile. “What do you say, Cal? We can go to clubs and pubs and movies more often.”

“I don’t think that’s a great idea,” Calum tells him honestly, trying to keep his laugh in at the absurd idea. 

“It’d be nice to have that extra bit of money each month,” Michael supplies, and Calum can only blink in response, certain he didn’t just hear that properly and Michael isn’t  _ actually  _ considering renting the room out. 

Ashton’s quick to step in defense, “Your budget wouldn’t be so tight.”

“I could get more biscuits each month!” 

Both Ashton and Michael look excited at the idea, while Calum stands by the window, appalled that this is a conversation that’s happening right now. His mouth can’t keep up with his brain, and he can’t seem to vocalize his frustrations. 

“I’ll start drafting up - ”

“ _ Michael _ .”

Michael slightly jumps, hardly noticeable but still a jump, at Calum’s tone. “Calum, babe, are you really not alright with it?”

“I know you want your space now, man,” Ashton tries. He’s got a hand lightly placed on Michael's shoulder, and Calum almost chuckles at how quickly things got serious from what Calum genuinely assumed was a joke earlier. “But after the honeymoon phase is over, you may enjoy having a third party around.”

“We could at least interview some people. See what we think?” Michael nods along with his words, mouth twitching away from a frown. Calum sighs. 

“Michael…” Calum works his way around the phrasing, not wanting the words to come out too crass or explicit in front of Ashton. “The walls are  _ very  _ thin.” 

“So?”

Calum ignores Ashton’s confusion and focuses on the blank look Michael's got on his face, his eyes clear as he thinks until suddenly they widen and Calum knows he understands. “Yeah, you know what? I think we’re good on our own.”

“Are you - ”

“Drop it, Ashton,” Michael bites, and Calum actually  _ does _ laugh out loud at that. “Calum doesn’t want another flatmate. Respect him, will you?” 

Ashton quirks his brow as Michael glares, Calum can’t stop laughing, and everything is wonderful.

**Author's Note:**

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